


The Office

by theonsfavouritetoy



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: M/M, PWP, Spanking, also fluff because I can't help myself, inappropriately timed blowjobs, just a little office smut, remote-controlled toys, revenge after revenge after revenge, teasing (also known as torture)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-29
Updated: 2019-12-25
Packaged: 2020-11-01 11:27:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 14,507
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20814374
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theonsfavouritetoy/pseuds/theonsfavouritetoy
Summary: Having his own, huge office and his own secretary are just a few of the perks of working here. Well, the secretary he shares with his best friend, Junior Head of his father’s company. Stark Enterprises. Theon thinks of the little sign outside his own door. Assistant Junior Head.Or: Theon works for the Starks, Jon is an intern, lots of smut happens.





	1. I. The Assault

**Author's Note:**

> Hello lovely people! 
> 
> I'm working on a longer modern AU atm and was suddenly craving a quick smut fix, and dear @half_life has delivered a lovely prompt - and here is the result! 
> 
> Another chapter is in the making, they're all set in the same universe but it isn't really a continuous story.

Theon leans back in his chair, letting his gaze sweep over the view outside the window. Winterfell’s skyline is as impressive as ever, but especially in the morning light. If he had the time, he could watch the sun rising right behind the North Tower. But there’s a reason he’s in his office that early, and it has nothing to do with the sunrise. Theon swivels back to his desk, pressing a little button. His secretary answers immediately, annoyingly cheerful for that time of the day. Theon orders the file he’ll need for the conference, then terminates the call and leans back again, satisfied. 

Having his own, huge office and his own secretary are just a few of the perks of working here. Well, the secretary he shares with his best friend, Junior Head of his father’s company. Stark Enterprises. Theon thinks of the little sign outside his own door. Assistant Junior Head. Not bad, considering he’s an outsider. But Robb had told his father to get Theon a job, and Ned had given him this office, a good sounding title and a wage that’s more than generous. He can eat lunch for free in the canteen and Robb’s office is next to his and after work they can go for drinks whenever they like. 

A knock sounds, the door opens and a husky voice bids him good morning while the smell of coffee starts to filter into the room. Theon grins, watching the intern approach his desk with a steaming cup and a promising looking bag from the bakery across the street. This is maybe the biggest perk. Interns. Or maybe just this particular intern. 

“Good morning,” Theon drawls as coffee and breakfast are placed on his desk. “You’re early, too.”

“Uncle Ned has an important meeting at nine. I have to stock the conference room with drinks and nibbles.”

“It’s not even eight,” Theon observes, watching Robb’s cousin put little pastries out of the bag and onto a plate. “That’s what I call overzealous. Surely you don’t need to work so hard.”

“Yes, very hard,” Jon snorts, walking around to Theon’s side and starting to arrange the newspapers on the desk. “I thought I could get breakfast too before the meeting. I’m always hungry in the morning.”

“Oh yeah?” Theon looks at Jon’s round arse appreciatively as he leans over the desk to set his stationery straight. “Me too.”

“I was hoping you’d say that.” Jon turns around, leaning against the desk with slightly spread legs. 

“I have a phone conference in about five minutes,” Theon says, not without regret. “But if you’re still hungry after Ned’s meeting we could–” Theon stops talking when all of a sudden Jon has dropped to the floor, looking up at him from the rough office carpet. “Snow, what…”

Jon throws him an insolent glare. “I’m hungry _ now,” _ he mutters, and sets to work Theon’s trousers open. 

Theon watches, not quite sure what to do. Not that it matters, his belt and flies are already open and Jon shoves his pants down with determination. Theon blinks as his dick is pulled out of its confinement, as Jon gives it a quick stroke. Alright, maybe this can be fast. What with the way Jon looks at him, as if he’s been fantasizing about nothing else but Theon’s dick, and his amazingly talented mouth, this can be over in two minutes. 

Knock knock.

Theon flinches, trying to shove Jon away but he is having none of it. He just crawls backwards on his knees until he’s hidden under the desk, taking Theon with him as he goes. Theon watches helplessly as Beth Cassel, his and Robb’s secretary, enters with a stack of folders in her hands. Dammit, the files he sent her to get! Theon opens his mouth to tell her just to put them down – and closes it again to swallow a yelp as his dick is very suddenly engulfed in wet warmth. 

“Here’s the file you wanted, sir,” Beth says chirpily. “And it’s one minute to eight. Do you want me to put Ms. Karstark and Mr. Umber through immediately?”

“Fuck,” Theon gasps as Jon suckles on his dickhead, “no – I mean, yes – fuuu–”

“Excuse me?!” 

The smile on Beth’s face has slipped a little and Theon jerks as Jon makes a vacuum with his mouth and sucks. 

“Sorry… er… could you get me…”

_ “The Martell Fusion file,” _Jon hisses from under the desk before going back to tormenting Theon with wet kisses along his length. 

Theon repeats it, trying not to feel guilty as another drawn-out curse has Beth raise her eyebrows until they vanish beneath her bangs. Good thinking of Jon. That certain file is buried beneath a mountain of other stuff and it’ll take her a while. 

“I’ll put your calls through and get it for you,” Beth says stiffly and walks out. 

Theon moans loudly as soon as she has closed the door. Jon is one in a million when it comes to blowjobs, and normally Theon can let go when he’s on the receiving end, can slide his fingers into Jon’s hair and enjoy it – his phone rings just as Jon hooks his fingers into Theon’s belt loops and sinks down, swallowing him whole. Theon nearly screams, slamming his hand onto his desk – and hitting the reception button dead on. 

“Hello? Greyjoy?”

Theon hectically tries to scramble into a more upright position, fumbling for the receiver. 

“Hey, Umber, yes, I’m–” Theon presses the receiver against his chest to muffle the sounds Jon makes, little moans and whimpers and slurping sounds. “Snow, could you just stop for – drowned fuck…”

Jon looks up at him beneath his lashes, rosy mouth stretched to a round o around Theon’s dick, and with such a smug look in his dark eyes Theon wants to smack him. 

“I’ll get you for that,” Theon hisses at him, which Jon takes as his cue to swallow Theon down again. Theon cries out, desperately clutching at the receiver. 

“Theon?”

“Hi, Alys, sorry…” Theon gasps into the receiver, his free hand clawing into the armrest as Jon plops off his dick and starts mouthing at Theon’s balls. “I have a little… gods… technical problem here… one second…”

“Are you alright, Greyjoy?” Ned Umber asks brightly. “You sound strange.”

“Perfectly fine, uuuh…” Theon clamps a hand over his mouth to muffle a scream when Jon nibbles on the underside of his dick before licking broad, wet stripes across the head. “I just… fuck… ignore me, okay? Just… oooh… just go ahead with the propo… propo… aaaah!”

There’s a brief silence before Alys launches into explaining the details of the campaign she has worked out, while Ned Umber fills in from time to time. Theon hums at the appropriate points, not hearing a single word they’re saying. Jon is getting down to business now, swallowing Theon down as if he’s starving for it, making little noises of greed and arousal, bobbing his head up and down until Theon sees stars. His hand with the receiver is shaking, his other hand grasping for Jon’s head, silky curls gliding through his fingers. 

“What do you think, Theon?” Alys asks just as a surge of pleasure races through Theon as Jon slurps loudly, pressing a sneaky finger against the spot beneath his balls and Theon cries out, straight into the receiver. 

“Yes,” he groans as his dick pulses in Jon’s mouth, “fuck, yes, yes, _ yes!” _

“Good,” Umber says after a pause. “Glad to hear you’re so enthusiastic about it. I’ll email you the contract and you can send it back once Stark has signed it.”

“Always a pleasure talking to you, Theon!” Alys sounds like she’s suppressing a giggle. “Greetings to Robb, we’ll call him when we come to Winterfell again. Let’s have some drinks then!”

“Yes, thanks for calling,” Theon mutters weakly, shaking fingers petting Jon’s head leaning against his thigh. He’s got no idea what he has just agreed to. 

“And tell Jon he shouldn’t work so hard, but I appreciate his efforts.”

Theon gingerly puts the receiver down and rolls his seat back to look at Jon. He’s smiling up at him smugly, licking his reddened lips. Theon’s flaccid dick gives a pathetic little twitch. 

“You distracted me on purpose,” he states. Jon doesn’t even look as if he wants to deny it, he just shrugs. Theon slumps back, tucking his dick back into his pants. “What was the proposition?”

“Don’t worry,” Jon says as he crawls up from under the desk, bracing himself on Theon’s thigh. “It’s good business. I would never harm my uncle’s company.”

“And what about my credibility?” Theon grouses, catching Jon between his thighs before he can step away. “And what about my sensitive soul? You just sucked me off as a means of distraction?”

“Well, that…” Jon leans forward, halfway climbing into Theon’s lap, pressing his erection against his hip. “And the fact that I can never get enough of your taste.” He bends down, kissing Theon thoroughly. “But mostly because it’s fun making a moron out of you.” And with that he steps away before Theon can hold him back, still smiling his smug little smile. “See you later, boss. I have a meeting to prepare.”

“I’ll get you for that, Snow,” Theon bellows after him. “I’ll pay you back!”

The door falls into the lock with a click and Theon exhales shakily. A ping from his computer tells him he got a new email, probably the contract Umber was talking about. Theon grabs his coffee, still warm. He takes a sip and smiles to himself. Reserve Hazelnut Bianco Latte. His favourite. Jon always knows what he wants. Jon’s smug expression before his eyes Theon’s smile deepens, becomes gentle.

Yes, working here definitely has its perks. 


	2. II. The Revenge - Part One

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jon might think he got one over Theon - but I wouldn't count on it!

The day of Jon’s doom begins harmlessly. Theon hums to himself as he enters the corporate building, pressing the button to call the elevator. While being whisked to the seventh floor where his and Robb’s offices are, he fingers the small package he carries in his pocket. It’s perfect. He’d ordered it the very day of Jon’s assault on him, over three weeks ago. Since then a lot has happened, including a little trifle in the little office kitchen where Jon had been making tea for a group of guests. Theon had sneaked up on him, had lifted Jon onto the counter and fucked the breath right out of him. The guests had never gotten their tea. 

Theon starts whistling as he enters his office, setting of many much more appropriately timed blowjobs and one or two other happenings. Jon must think he’s forgotten by now. But Theon Greyjoy forgets nothing. And today will be the day of his revenge. He’s planned it in great detail, what exactly he’ll have to do to make Jon suffer, publicly. Alys and Umber had visited last weekend, and Theon still gets all worked up when he remembers their crude joking and teasing, much to Robb’s confusion. Poor guy doesn’t have a clue. No, Theon hasn’t forgotten. Jon will be destroyed. 

“Hey, Theon!” Robb’s head appears in his door, eyebrows wiggling. “Don’t forget we have the big meeting at ten.”

“Oh I haven’t,” Theon says, trying his best to look innocent and businesslike. “Just need to get a few little things out of the way. Hey,” he tilts his head, feigning mild disinterest. “Have you seen your cousin around?”

“Yeah, he’s down on fifth, I heard him saying he has to do something for Mrs. Mordane. Why?”

“I asked him to copy a few files yesterday but I can’t find them.” Theon sighs heavily. “Maybe he forgot, the little woolhead.”

“Be nice,” Robb scolds, brows furrowing. “You don’t get to talk down to him all the time, maybe he’ll sit in your seat before long.”

“Yeah, sure.” Theon snorts. “I’m brilliant at my job, don’t forget that, Stark.” 

Inwardly he rolls his eyes. Really, how can anyone be that oblivious? Since Jon’s started working here they’ve done it all over the building, in various places and various positions. It’s the best-known secret of Stark Enterprises, his thing with Jon. Everyone knows it. Everyone but Robb. Well, Theon thinks as he waves Robb away with the excuse of having to work, maybe Robb is distracted. From what he knows he’s trying to get into their cute lawyer’s pants, but so far she’s still stringing him along. 

Theon taps a short number into his phone, plastering a fake smile onto his face when the other end picks up. 

“Hello, Mrs. Mordane, this is Theon Greyjoy. I heard Jon Snow is down at yours and I need him for a… a… an urgent matter of business.”

“I’m sure it’s very urgent, Mr. Greyjoy,” she replies testily. “I’ll send him up at once.”

“Thank–” Theon starts when the dial tone interrupts him. “...you,” he finishes, slightly miffed, and hangs up. Mean old hag. 

But at least she did send Jon at once, it doesn’t take him ten minutes before his pretty face peeks in. 

“You wanted something?” he asks, mouth pulled into a pout, but he can’t exactly hide the anticipation in his voice. 

“Aye, I have a gift for you. Come in!” Theon grins as Jon closes the door – and locks it behind him before walking over and right into Theon’s arms. “Very foresightful, Snow,” Theon mumbles against the soft mouth after he’s kissed it long enough to make his dick harden in his pants. “Do you want it?”

“The gift or your cock?” Jon mutters, but he’s already fumbling with his trousers so the question might be rhetorical. It’s very clear what Jon wants first. 

“Again, very foresightful of you,” Theon says. “Turn around, baby. Brace yourself on the table.”

Jon does without hesitation, and Theon cackles silently. No wonder, the last time he’d told him to do that he’d eaten Jon’s arse until Jon had begged for mercy. Well, that’s not going to happen today. Theon takes his time dragging Jon’s trousers down, lets his hands roam up his torso and under his jumper, then down again where he kneads his cheeks, spreading them lightly. Jon’s head has dropped onto his chest, he’s shuddering, making those little moans and gasps Theon can’t get enough of. But today he wants to hear him scream. 

He drapes himself over Jon, mouthing at his nape, his ear, his jaw, hands gliding up Jon’s arms – and with a sudden jolt he has ripped both of them back and is holding them with his whole weight, pressed against Jon’s back. Jon stiffens, and for a split second Theon thinks he’ll fight him off, and he knows he’ll have no chance to hold him down. But then Jon relaxes again, exhaling a shuddery breath against the desktop. He must think this is a new game. And, in a way, it is. But it’s also revenge. 

“Open your mouth, Snow,” Theon says, fumbling the tool for his revenge out of his pocket. It’s not too big, not compared to his dick at least. But it is more than adequate. And when Jon’s lips part obediently Theon quickly slides the toy between them. “Suck it, baby. Make it wet.”

Jon makes a sound, muffled by the plug shoved into his mouth, and Theon hisses in his ear. “If I were you I’d get it thoroughly dripping. You know where this is going, Snow. Do yourself a favour.”

Jon shivers so violently Theon nearly lets go of his arms – and starts sucking. Theon wants to laugh in triumph. Jon certainly has no idea what torment lies in store for him. He fellates the plug with such enthusiasm Theon feels little electric jolts running down his spine and straight to his groin. Finally Jon seems to think the toy is wet enough, he makes a whine deep in his throat, and Theon pulls the plug away. 

“Ready, baby?” he asks sweetly, fumbling Jon’s cheeks apart. He’s fucked him so often over the last months, this shouldn’t be a problem at all. “Here we go then.”

And with that he thrusts the plug right up Jon’s arse, eliciting a throaty gasp from him. Theon would love to know what Jon thinks will happen now. Maybe he thinks Theon will fuck him with it, get him ready for the real thing. Well, wrong. Once the toy is snugly seated, Theon takes a step back, pulling Jon’s pants and trousers up and giving him a loving pat on his butt. Jon flinches. 

“What…” Jon turns around with a questioning gaze, but goes silent when he sees the devilish grin on Theon’s face. “Theon..?”

“Eye for an eye, Snow,” Theon says, moving forward to zip up Jon’s flies. He noses at his cheek, almost hearing the wheels rattling in his head. “This is my vendetta for your little cocksucking assault last month.”

“You’re  _ still _ hung up on that?” 

“You really hurt me,” Theon drawls, taking his time to nibble at Jon’s neck until he shudders. “Doing such a thing purely to make a moron of me. Now  _ this _ ,” he squeezes Jon’s arse, making him moan, “is your punishment.”

“If you say so…” Jon sighs, shifting in Theon’s arms so his notable erection is pressed against his thigh. “How long do I have to wear it until I’m forgiven?”

“Oh.” Theon pretends to think hard. “Let’s say… till lunch?”

“What??” Jon goes pale, to Theon’s delight. “But… but the meeting at ten – I’m supposed to take notes!”

“I know,” Theon says, crowding Jon back until he bumps into the desk, his eyes popping wide open, lips quivering in a silent moan. “And I’ll sit there and look at you and I’ll know you’re being sufficiently punished.”

“I can’t,” Jon whispers, looking at Theon pleadingly. “If anyone notices - if my  _ uncle _ notices…”

“Not so adventurous now, are you?” Theon presses closer, rubbing his hard dick against Jon’s until he whimpers. He slides both hands into Jon’s hair and attacks his mouth, kissing, licking, biting, swallowing Jon’s desperate moans. “If you want you can take it out,” he murmurs against Jon’s heated cheek. “But if you do…” He takes an abrupt step back. “If you take it out I won’t ever fuck you again.”

For a moment Jon is rigid, his face frozen in shock before it darkens considerably. “Fuck you!” he spits.

“Not that, either,” Theon says mildly. “What are you going to do, Snow? Your choice.”

“I hate you,” Jon mutters, shoulders sagging in defeat. “I really, really hate you.”

Theon smiles as he watches him walk out, every step carefully placed. He looks at his watch. Ten minutes to ten. Let the torture begin. 

TBC

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next part up soon :)


	3. III. The Revenge - Part Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poor Jon, eh? ;)

It is the best meeting Theon has ever had. There they all are, Ned Stark, company boss and Very Important Person, the partners Karstark and Umber senior, the investor from the capital - an old schoolfriend of Ned’s, Cassel from the security department, Jeyne the cute lawyer, Margy from marketing, Brienne from IT, Robb, Theon - and Jon-with-a-plug-up-his-bum. 

It’s marvellous. Even better than Theon had imagined. Jon is sitting next to his uncle, on the opposite side of the U the tables form, and right in Theon’s line of sight. He’s sweating, small droplets beading on his forehead. His cheeks are red, his lips pressed together – Theon shakes his head. There’s got to be something better. He leans over to Robb, pretending he’s looking at his notes while fumbling with the tiny black thing in his pocket. He hasn’t told Jon of this little detail. Theon presses the first button. 

Jon gasps. Audibly. His pen falls from his hand with a noisy clatter. Ned stops mid-sentence to look at him, as does everyone else. Theon looks too, careful to arrange his face into an expression of mild curiosity, but internally he’s laughing with triumph. Jon is beet red, mumbling an apology before picking his pen up again. Ned resumes his speech. Theon lets his gaze wander over the assembled party, taking his time. He hasn’t pressed the off button yet. When he finally looks at Jon he finds him glaring right back, the look in his eyes promising murder. 

Theon smiles sweetly. And pushes the next button. Jon jolts, but this time he doesn’t drop his pen. This time he’s gripping it like a lifeline. Still not enough, though. But all in good time. For now Theon takes mercy on Jon and switches the device off. Jon’s relief is palbable, even across the room. Theon grins as Jon exhales carefully. And pushes another button. Jon cries out, gripping onto the edge of the table. His mouth is hanging open, eyes screwed shut as he squirms in his seat, desperately trying to take his weight off his arse. 

“Are you alright, Jon?” Ned Stark asks, brows gathering. “Do you feel unwell?”

“Oh-oh-oh,” Jon moans, and then,  _ then,  _ he finally bites down on his full lower lip. 

Theon can’t take his eyes off his face. Flushed and hot, eyes open but hazy, and those strong white teeth digging into his perfect lip. Theon shifts in his chair. He’s been half-hard all day, but now his cock is fully erect, tenting his trousers under the table. Jon looks so beautiful, so utterly destroyed… With one hand Theon strokes his cock, the other fumbling for the remote. Highest setting. 

Jon fucking  _ screams.  _

Without looking at any of them he jumps up and, one hand pressed to his stomach, the other on his arse, he waddles to the door as fast as he can, slamming it shut. Silence follows. 

“Must be a bad case of the runs,” Theon casually says into the room. 

This breaks the tension. There’s laughter here and there, and Ned looks relieved to have an explanation for Jon’s weird behaviour. The meeting commences for another one and a half hours. When it is done Theon goes for a smoke, then looks into the tea kitchen. There’s no sign of Jon anywhere, which means… Grinning, Theon opens the door to his office, reckoning with an immediate attack or something like this. It doesn’t come. Jon is there alright, lying on the small leather two-seater, arse high up, face buried in a decorative cushion, fingers clamped onto the armrest. He’s shaking all over. 

Confused, Theon steps closer. Has Jon fallen asleep while waiting to tell him off? And then he hears it. A soft buzzing, barely audible even in the silence of his office. Theon feels like he got punched in the face. He’s still wearing it. Jon is still wearing the damned thing on the highest setting. He still hasn’t moved, apart from the shuddering he seems to have no control over, and Theon swallows. Has Jon passed out?

“Snow?” he says cautiously. “Hey, baby?” 

At this Jon lifts his head and Theon stumbles, shocked. Jon’s lip is swollen, red and wet, tears are streaming down his face and his curls are sticking to his forehead and neck, damp with sweat. He’s so beautiful it takes Theon’s breath away.

“Theon…” It’s half a whimper, half a moan. “Please…  _ please fuck me!” _

Theon takes the remote out of his pocket, his every gesture followed by Jon’s hazy eyes. With one click he turns the device off. Jon’s sob echoes through the room, he twitches. And then Theon is over him. He rips him up and into his arms, manoeuvering Jon’s limp body over to the table where he lays him down. Jon’s trousers are already open and Theon pulls them down, thin cotton pants tearing in his frenzy to get to his prize. Jon is breathing quickly, flatly, but when Theon’s fingers touch the plug he throws his head back and groans so desperately Theon nearly comes right then and there. 

He fingers it out, tossing it away, and stares at his work. Reddened, open, stretched and glistening with sweat. One shaking hand fumbling with his own belt, Theon strokes Jon, up and down his abused hole, accompanied by broken whimpers and sobs. Finally his trousers are down, his aching cock jutting out. 

“Please,” Jon whispers again, clenching his arse, and Theon rams himself in to the hilt. 

Jon arches his back, voice lost he just gasps, a silent scream, and Theon starts fucking. His hand is tangling in Jon’s hair, holding him down as he slams into him so violently the table rocks with the force of his thrusts. Over and over he drives into the slick heat of Jon’s body, mindless of his own groans and swears. It’s too much, too good, and Theon redoubles his efforts, faster, harder, until Jon cries out, tensing beneath Theon. He rips Jon’s head back, lifts him off the table, cock nearly slipping all the way out as he hisses in his ear. 

“Next time you’ll think twice before you play me a fool, right, baby? You won’t do this  _ ever _ again!”

“No,” Jon sobs, his dick jutting towards his belly, little droplets gathering at its tip, “no, Theon,  _ please, I beg you!” _

“I forgive you,” Theon says sweetly into Jon’s ear and slams back in. 

Jon screams, jolts, his dick spurting rivulets of seed as he comes, twitching, as Theon floods his arse, nose buried in Jon’s neck. 

~

Theon has no idea how they made it to the couch, but there they are, Jon’s limp body gathered in Theon’s arms. He’s still twitching every other moment, aftershocks running through him and making him shiver. Theon strokes his hair, trying not to think of how the couch will look when they’re done. He’s not done yet. 

“Theon…” Jon lifts his head from Theon’s shoulder, noses at his cheek. “You might have won this round. But don’t you think I’ll meekly admit defeat.”

“Whatever you say, baby.”

Jon’s hand closes around his cock, half-hard again, and Theon smiles, leaning back as Jon slips off the couch and onto the carpet. Seems Jon isn’t done yet either.


	4. IV. The Destruction

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, here's Jon, doing something stupid so Theon can punish him XD

“Finally!” 

Theon leans back with a groan, rubbing his eyes. He’s dead tired. It’s Friday, after 10 pm, the rest of the building is deserted and he’s missed the last tube home. But he’s finally finished his report. Carefully, Theon sorts the papers, trying to suppress a yawn. This report will be his masterpiece. Maybe it’ll get him a nice, fat bonus. Or even a pay raise. Theon leafs through the sheets nearly affectionately. He’s been working on it for over a month, and he’s finally done it. Tomorrow morning he’ll ask Beth to type it out and put it on Ned Stark’s desk, and then Theon can put up his feet and wait for the praise to shower him. 

“Knock knock.”

Theon looks over to the door, and for a moment he thinks he’s having a sleep-deprivation-induced hallucination. But Jon is really there, leaning against the doorframe with an expectant look on his pretty face. 

“Done yet?” he asks. 

“Yeah.” Theon blinks. “What the fuck are you doing here at this time?” 

Jon shrugs. “Was out with a friend in that bar two streets from here and when I walked past I thought I saw light in your window. Thought maybe you could do with a little bedtime sweet.”

“I do hope you mean an actual candy,” Theon says, partly touched, partly horrified. “I don’t think I have the energy left to give you a good dicking tonight.”

“Nobody said anything about dickings,” Jon says, pushing himself off the doorframe. “Just lean back and relax, yeah?”

Theon doesn’t need to be told twice. He watches as Jon comes closer, his fingers slowly opening button after button of the black shirt he’s wearing, revealing more and more of that milk-white, soft skin. When he reaches Theon the shirt is falling open, beautifully framing Jon’s chest and stomach. He bends, trailing one hand gently through Theon’s hair, lips softly pressing against his. Theon’s dick twitches. Maybe there’s a tiny bit of energy left after all. But just when Theon decides he wants to kiss Jon some more, he straightens, embarrassingly making Theon chase after his mouth. 

“You’re tired,” Jon reminds him with the hint of a smile. “You don’t need to do anything.”

His fingers have started to work his belt open, slowly pulling it out of the buckle. Theon watches, not having any idea what Jon means to do but enjoying the show nonetheless. And a show it is. Once the belt is undone and the fly of his jeans is open, Jon shoves it down – and Theon looks upon nothing but naked flesh. 

“What the…” With some difficulty he tears his eyes away from Jon’s dick, plumping under his gaze, to look at his face. “Is there a reason you’re going commando?”

“Thought I might get lucky tonight,” Jon says casually, eyes dark. His mouth twitches. “Saves time.”

“Is that so,” Theon mutters. He doesn’t like the thought. While they have never talked about exclusivity or anything of the sort, Theon had been under the impression that. Well, that at least Jon would be… that Theon is the only one Jon does this kind of stuff with. But, thinking of the blowjob he had gotten from a random girl last month, Theon doesn’t feel he can pitch a fit. So he grins, a little too wide. “And?” he asks. “Did you?”

“Not yet I didn’t.” Jon steps out of his jeans, toeing off his shoes and socks. “Very unsatisfying evening so far. And then I come here and you’re too tired to fuck me six ways from Sunday. Whatever shall I do?”

Theon just opens his mouth to tell Jon he’s changed his mind and will fuck him not six but ten ways from whichever day he likes, when Jon braces himself on Theon’s desk, levering his body up onto the desktop, spreading his legs. Theon shuts his mouth before he can drool all over himself. Jon looks like a fucking wet dream as he sits there, shirt slipping over his shoulders and down his arms, the rest of him stark naked. Like some greek statue, only with bigger equipment. Theon watches as Jon leans back on one arm, the other moving up, Jon’s fingers driving through his curls in a positively decadent gesture. 

“Seems like I have to see to this myself,” Jon says with a sigh and, without further ado, wraps his fingers around his dick.

Theon can’t hold back a shocked gasp. Baffled, he watches as Jon slowly strokes himself, up and down his hardening length. His thumb glides over the slit, massaging it, smearing a droplet of wetness over the head. For a moment Jon lets go of his dick, licking at his thumb. Theon’s dick makes an enthusiastic leap, and another as Jon spits in his hand and returns it to leisurely glide up and down his now fully hard dick. Jon’s cheeks flush a beautiful red, he throws his head back and moans, a guttural sound sending shockwaves of arousal through Theon’s body. 

“This… ah… this is how I do it on the weekends,” Jon whispers huskily. “When I… fuck… when I know I won’t see you for… oh… two fucking days… takes the edge off… aah yes…”

Theon’s body grows hotter and hotter as he watches Jon pleasure himself, his hand slowly gathering speed. 

“I pretend… pretend it’s your fingers wrapped… ah… wrapped around me…” Jon goes faster, spreading his legs wider, angling his whole body into his strokes. “Sometimes… I wish I could… gods… call you, hear your voice…” Jon shivers, his hand flying on his dick. He’s panting hard, eyes dark slits in his heated face, gaze unwaveringly trained on Theon’s face. 

“Fuck, Snow…” Theon whispers, hands twitching. He wants to touch him, take that pulsing dick into his mouth, wants to be the one to make Jon come. But Jon’s eyes tie him to his chair, and all he can do is watch. And talk. “I’d tell you to suck your fingers, baby… make them wet and shove them into your tight hole–”

Jon groans, loud, dirty, his body going rigid, back arching as he spills over his hand. Theon gets up, opening his own trousers, and with one quick move he’s grabbed Jon’s hair and shoved him onto his dick. Jon spasms, hands pressed against the desk to keep his balance. It doesn’t take long, two, maybe three thrusts and Theon spills into Jon’s wide open mouth, over his chin, some come dripping down his chest. He steps away, sinking back into his chair, chest heaving. After a moment Jon looks up, wiping his face with his shirt sleeve. He’s grinning. 

“Thought you’d like that, boss.” He tries to lift his other hand, frowning. Theon follows his gaze. A paper is stuck to Jon’s jizz-covered hand. A paper that looks suspiciously like…

“Oops,” Jon says as he peels it off, tearing it in the process. “I hope that wasn’t something important.”

...like Theon’s precious, brilliant, laboriously worked-out report.  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Up next: The punishment


	5. V. The Reparations

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, Jon gets what he deserves for ruining Theon's report. For that we'll change to his POV for once! 
> 
> @AmeliaIsmills - thank you for the prompt!

Jon can’t entirely suppress a shudder when the door closes with a soft click. He doesn’t look up to see Theon coming over to the desk, just resumes his position. His forearms and hands lie flat on the desk, framing the sheets of papers he’s worked on all day. He’s bent forward, arse high up. He has no idea what it is Theon has in mind for today, but Jon fervently hopes it involves some body part of Theon’s and Jon’s arse. 

He’s never been like this, never. His first and only girlfriend so far had been lucky if he’d left the lights on. Not that he hadn’t thoroughly enjoyed doing stuff with her, but still… he’d thought all of it rather embarrassing and indecent. Until Theon. It had taken one look, one single smile, and Jon hasn’t been the same ever since. Lust at first sight. Sometimes Jon still can’t believe how much it has changed him, that first look, first smile, first time. 

Head over heels, or more like, arse over cock. It’s developed into an addiction pretty fast, having Theon finger him, fuck him, swallow Theon down, kiss him, tease him… Love at first sight. Jon sighs, shoving the thought aside as Theon steps behind him, hands roaming over Jon’s jeans-clad backside, massaging, squeezing roughly. He’s good at it, Jon knows he is. At keeping up appearances, at playing things cool. At not letting on how much he misses Theon when he’s not around, how much he wants him _ everywhere, _ not just at work. 

“Did you rewrite my report?” Theon asks softly. 

“Yes, boss,” Jon says, wondering what it is Theon has in mind. Maybe he’ll–

_ Smack! _

Jon turns his head, incredulous, looking at Theon over his shoulder. He’s still in his suit, tie immaculate, wearing a self-satisfied smirk. 

“Anything the matter, Snow?” he asks. Jon slowly shakes his head. This is new. Theon clears his throat, jerking his head at the desk. “Then get on with it, read it to me.”

For a moment Jon continues to stare at Theon before he gives a single, sharp nod and turns back to the report. He licks his dry lips and starts to read, body tense in anticipation. It comes after the first paragraph, a firm slap to the left side of his butt. It’s not too hard, barely stinging through the firm denim, but it does send a shiver down Jon’s spine. He flinches as another lands in the same spot, a little harder, but still not painful. 

“Read on,” comes Theon’s voice from behind, and Jon does. 

Every few sentences he receives another slap, and slowly his dick starts to harden. 

“Don’t stop,” Theon tells Jon, but Jon can’t help a startled gasp when his jeans are ripped down and cool air grazes his naked arse. And then he yelps when another smack hits his right cheek, hard and smarting. “I said, don’t stop,” Theon says sternly.

Jon swallows, head dropping to his chest. He clears his throat and reads on. _ Smack! _Jon jumps, stutters, tries not to falter in his reading, but the blows are coming faster, harder, stinging and biting. His dick is uncomfortably trapped between the edge of the desk and his belly, nonetheless throbbing every time Theon’s hand meets the heated flesh of his butt. 

_ Smack! _

It hurts, tears are pricking at Jon’s eyes and his voice trips over the words. Another smack, right in the middle and a moan rips from Jon’s throat, he shudders as his dick spurts a tiny dribble of fluid. 

“Fuck,” Theon hisses behind him, clothes rustle and another harsh slap lands on Jon’s butt, making him cry out. “Don’t… don’t move…” Theon’s voice is pressed, the sound of skin against skin reaches Jon’s ears and before he can react Theon groans and something wet hits his burning arse.

He’s trembling, waiting for Theon to do something, shove his fingers into his hole or tell him to turn around, _ anything. _

“You can get dressed again,” Theon says a little breathless, giving Jon’s butt a soft pat. It still stings and Jon flinches, turning around to see if Theon is joking. He looks a mess, collar of his shirt loosened and sweat-soaked, tie askew and hair dishevelled. But his grin speaks volumes. 

“What–” Jon starts to protest, but is interrupted by Theon’s mouth swallowing his words. Jon greedily kisses back, trying to rub himself against Theon but he steps out of reach with a laugh. 

“Oh no, baby. You don’t get to come as long as you’re still in the same room as my report. Be a good boy, do up your trousers and take it down to your uncle’s office. Then…” He smirks, catching Jon’s neck and kissing him again in a way that is nearly enough to finish Jon. “Then you can go wank in the loo for all I care.” Theon moves back, driving a hand through his hair, and looks at his watch. “I have a lunch meeting to attend. See you later, baby!”

And with a last little wave he’s gone. Jon’s dick gives a pathetic little jump. 

What the actual _ fuck_?!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you liked it! Six more are planned so far and I'm always open for ideas :)


	6. VI. The Mistake

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In lieu of a proper Hallowe'en story... here's another chapter of smutty corporate stuff. Jealousy!!!

“Hey, Greyjoy! On the way to keep an eye on your little snack?”

Theon frowns in Cassel’s direction. Whatever. But two doors down it’s the same, coming from the finances department. 

“Better be quick before he’s snatched away!”

“I’d be careful if I were you, Greyjoy.”

“Such a pretty thing shouldn’t be left out of sight!”

Theon doubles his pace, hurrying down the stairs instead of waiting for the elevator, only to receive similar comments from everyone on the fifth floor. Whatever can Jon be up to _ now? _ And why would Theon have to hurry? Why would he need to watch Jon… doing copies or making tea or whatever it is he’s doing right now. 

When Theon finally arrives at the ground floor he’s out of breath, and thoroughly annoyed. He’d bet it’s just some elaborate joke they’re all in on, maybe even initiated by Jon himself, the little beast. He rounds the corner from the staircase, heading for the main entrance when he runs into Ned Stark – who looks strangely alarmed upon seeing Theon. 

“No brawls in my office,” he says as he hurries past, leaving Theon thoroughly confused. Who would he have a brawl with? He can’t think of anyth–

Oh. 

There he stands, the culprit of all the jokes – engrossed in a very, _ very _ animated conversation with the UPS guy. Theon narrows his eyes as he stalks over. Anyone wearing shorts for work has gone very wrong somewhere in his life, he’s always been of that opinion. But said shorts reveal very firm, nicely sculpted calves… Theon slowly lets his gaze wander higher. 

Strong thighs, slim waist, flat stomach, a broad chest, very muscular arms – he stops in his tracks when one of those arms wraps around Jon’s shoulders. _ Jon’s shoulders_. And Jon – smiles, looking for all the world as if he’s enjoying being manhandled by that… that… Theon swallows, looking the guy in the face. Fuck. He looks good, very attractive if you’re into the rough, lumberjack-y handsomeness. Blue eyes with laugh crinkles, dark hair, strong chin. Theon loathes him. 

Neither of them seems to have noticed him. Jon is too caught up in batting his eyelashes while the UPS guy is thoroughly occupied with talking. Theon can’t make out the words, but they make Jon laugh and then _ he raises his fucking hand _ and playfully - playfully! - shoves that obnoxious guy’s chest. It looks more like a caress than anything and Theon’s blood boils hotly in his body. What the fuck does Jon think he’s doing there – the guy leans forward, whispering in Jon’s ear and Jon throws his head back, curls dancing, and _ laughs– _

Completely forgetting why he’s down there, Theon turns on his heel and stalks back to the elevator, shaking with rage. Thankfully it’s empty, but once he’s in his office and opens his mailbox he wishes he’d just gone home. A good dozen mails await him, some offering advice on how to rein in his unfaithful little toy, some openly sneering at him. What a fucking gang of assholes! Theon angrily smashes random buttons until the mailbox disappears and the internet opens – on the UPS site. Right. He’s meant to get a parcel picked up.

“Fuck this,” Theon mutters to himself. “I’m going home.”

Thankfully neither Jon nor Mr. Muscle are anywhere around when he stomps off. Once home, Theon pours himself a triple whisky, neat, downing it in one go. Once his eyes have stopped watering he pours another, taking that one into his bedroom where he slumps onto his bed, still fully dressed. Fuck fuck fuck fuck _ fuck. _ He’s so riled up, sleep is impossible. Too early for that anyway, Theon realizes as he glances at his alarm clock. Not even five pm and he’s already in bed and on his way to being thoroughly drunk. It’s all Jon’s fault. He’s going to fucking show him.

It’s only when he’s arrived at his favourite bar and scans the patrons for a possible prey that Theon realizes the flaw in his plan: Jon isn’t here. He can’t see Theon picking up that hot redhead over there, or the cute girl with the blonde braids. Besides… none of them is going to cut it anyway. Theon sits down grumpily, gripping his beer. He wants Jon. His delicious arse, his talented mouth, his pretty face, his lovely smile – dammit. 

Back home Theon showers, toying with the thought of pestering Robb for Jon’s phone number, but… He isn’t quite ready to do what he needs to do. The thought still has an oppressing weight to it, makes him uncomfortable. Maybe it’s silly. He hasn’t fucked anyone but Jon in months, save for that one more than mediocre blowjob he got. Once knowing Jon’s mouth and the things it’s capable of doing, there’s no turning back. With that thought, Theon finally falls asleep. 

Jon is there, inexplicably. They’re in the lobby, and Jon is sprawled out over the reception, naked and beautiful. He spreads his legs, revealing his tiny, pink hole, already wet with lube, ready to be ravished. Theon’s mouth is dry as he watches him spread out like this, his heart beating fast when he takes in the whole sight. Jon’s face is relaxed, his cheeks flushed beautifully, hair fanning out behind him. He’s wanted to take him there so often, in front of everyone, show them how Jon moans from Theon’s cock, how good he gives it to him...

Suddenly there’s someone else, someone who doesn’t belong there. Theon watches in horror as a naked man, buff and tanned, steps between Jon’s legs, large hands spreading his thighs even further. Jon arches into the touch, moans wantonly, and Theon wants to scream, tell them to stop, but no words come out of his mouth, he’s frozen to the spot, condemned to watch the scene unfold. 

The man grips Jon’s hips, dragging him closer to the edge. Theon wants to close his eyes but he can’t, unable to tear his gaze away from the man’s calloused fingers driving into Jon. It’s like being stuck in some kind of hell. Helpless, Theon sees Jon bearing back against the stranger’s fingers fucking into him, hears his deep, guttural moans, watches his dick dribbling on his belly, watches the stranger pull away his hand only to replace it with a huge, massive–

“Fuck me,” Jon groans, “fuck me hard!”

The stranger takes his dick in hand, guiding it to Jon’s hole. Jon arches his back again, needy, impatient, and suddenly the man looks over his shoulder, directly at Theon, grinning cockily. Theon’s eyes widen as he recognizes him. It’s the fucking UPS guy, and with a wink to Theon he turns back and slams into Jon with brutal force. 

“AAAAAAH!!!”

Theon sits up, staring wildly into the dark of his bedroom. He’s sweating, heart beating way too fast, only slowly realizing it has been a horrible, horrible dream. Fuck! He wipes his eyes, burying his face in his hands. He has to do it. 

When he enters the office a few hours later, still rather shaky from his dream, Jon is already there, leaning his hip against that _ bloody _ desk, chatting idly with the receptionist. As he turns and sees Theon his face lights up and anger rises so suddenly in Theon’s chest he wonders he doesn’t implode. Stiffly he marches over, snatching the collar of Jon’s shirt and pulling him close, hissing into his face. 

“Just so you know, Snow, we’re exclusive now and if you even so much as look at that fucking UPS guy again I’ll fuck you to a permanent limp!!!”

He crashes down on him before Jon can answer, kissing him so hard it leaves a metallic taste in his mouth before breaking away and staggering off, leaving Jon and an open-mouthed receptionist behind. That ought to have shown Jon. Theon grins grimly as he enters the elevator. 

Now he only needs to come up with a plan to show the UPS guy too. 


	7. VII. The Penance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let's show that pesky UPS guy who Jon really belongs to, shall we?

Jon’s head is still reeling when he knocks on Theon’s door. Exclusive – what, all of a sudden? And what did Theon mean with the UPS guy? Yeah, sure, he’s pretty sexy but it’s not as if Jon has flirted with him. Or at least not on purpose. Whatever it was, it seems to have flicked a switch in Theon’s head. Jon smiles to himself when he enters the office. He’s been exclusive all along, but to have _ Theon _ say it… his stomach flutters happily. 

“There you are!” 

Theon’s eyes are glittering as he steps out from behind his desk, barely leaving Jon time to close the door behind him before he pounces on him, hands driving into Jon’s hair, mouth hard and insistent on his. He crowds Jon back against the door, shoving his crotch against him. Theon’s dick nudges Jon’s thigh, hard as iron, so hard Jon is sure it’ll leave bruises where it is pressed against him. Theon’s hands seem to be everywhere, tearing at Jon’s clothes until he’s half naked while his lips and tongue move frantically against Jon’s.

“Come on, baby,” Theon whispers in Jon’s ear, biting down on his earlobe, making Jon shiver. “Come on, off with those ridiculous jeans.”

Jon obeys, hands clumsy with eagerness. When he’s finally shed his trousers, Theon has already taken a seat in his chair, his belt and fly open, hard cock jutting out. The rest of his clothes are immaculate, not a hair out of place as he grins at Jon, beckoning him over with a wave of his hand. 

“Come here, Snow,” he drawls, taking his cock in hand and giving it a lazy stroke. “I want you to face the door when I fuck you.”

Jon has no idea what Theon is thinking, but of course he does just what he tells him to do. He turns his back on Theon, feels his hands spreading his butt cheeks, feels the tip of his huge cock nudge against his hole. They’ve fucked often enough to make this possible, even without lube, just the wetness of precome easing the way. The stretch is still somewhat uncomfortable, but Jon relishes the slight burn as he sinks down on Theon’s cock, thighs trembling from the unfamiliar position. 

Once Jon is fully seated in Theon’s lap, impaled on his cock, Theon’s arms come around his waist, supporting Jon’s weight so he can relax a little. Theon shifts, his cock moving just a fraction in Jon, rubbing along his prostate. Jon gasps, leaning back against Theon’s chest, resting his head on his shoulder. He can feel his arse relaxing around the hardness in him, sighs softly, relaxes further. And Theon bites down on his shoulder, so hard a jolt of pain surges through Jon and straight to his cock. 

“I wish I could mark you permanently,” Theon murmurs, thrusting his hips upward while holding Jon down. “That’d make it clear once and for all who is allowed to fuck you… only me.”

Jon bites his lip against the scream threatening to escape his throat as Theon repeats the move, again, once more, fucking into Jon with a force that shouldn’t be possible. He works a bruise into Jon’s neck, licking, sucking, biting until Jon is sure his whole neck will be deep purple. It hurts, so good, the pain and pleasure interrupted by Theon speaking. 

“Show them all that you’re taken, that it’s me, and only me, who gets to fuck you, gets to kiss you… say it, Jon. Who do you belong to?”

“You,” Jon gasps, moans, flinching when Theon’s hands grip his thighs and lift him up, just a little, before Jon is let down again and Theon’s cock drives deep into him. “I belong to you! Aaah…”

Theon starts thrusting again, hands still levering Jon’s thighs up from his lap, giving him more room to give full, long strokes into him, filling him again and again… 

Jon doesn’t hear the knock, doesn’t hear the door opening, but he does hear the shocked outcry, getting through the haze of lust he’s caught in. Jon’s eyes fly open, he stares at the man standing in the door. He’s wearing an expression of utter shock, face rapidly reddening, eyes glued to Jon being fucked on Theon’s cock. He looks vaguely familiar but Jon can’t place him, there’s no room for anything in his head except Theon’s cock fucking him so, so _ good… _

One of Theon’s hands comes to wrap around Jon’s dick and he feels his body going rigid, tensing, one more push from Theon’s cock and Jon screams as he comes, and once again when Theon floods his arse not a moment later, pumping wave after wave of come into him. His body goes limp, the only thing holding him up are Theon’s arms, tight around his torso. 

“I’m… I’m… so-so-sorry,” the man in the door stutters, and suddenly Jon, coming down from his high, recognises him - it’s the UPS guy. And then he realizes the full situation he’s in. He’s naked, sitting on his boss’ lap, jizz smeared all over him – he wants to sink into the floor. He tries to wriggle out of Theon’s hold, but escape is impossible, Theon’s arms tighten around him like a vice. 

“Oh, good,” Theon drawls, “you’re very punctual. The parcel’s over there.” He jerks his head to a small glass table next to the door, a small parcel sitting on top. “I already signed the sheet, you just have to take it.”

The UPS guy nods, hastily scrambling for the parcel before he practically runs from the room, leaving the door wide open. After a moment there’s an indignant cough and Beth Cassel closes it without as much as looking into the room. Jon wants to die of mortification. 

“Think he knows to keep his big paws to himself?” Theon asks casually, finally relinquishing his hold. “Get off me, baby, you’re dribbling come on my good suit.”

“You…” Jon stiffly gets to his feet, turning around to face Theon. He’s wearing the most machiavellian grin on his face and Jon understands. “You did that on _ purpose_?? Fucked me here where you knew the poor guy was going to come in??”

“Yep,” Theon says, straightening his tie. “He touched you the other day. Had to show him, didn’t I?” 

“Show…” Jon grabs his jeans from the floor, whacking Theon with them. “You’re _ impossible_, you bloody moron! At least you could’ve thought of _ me, _ that was so _ embarrassing_, I don’t know why I’m even _ putting up with you–_”

“Because I’m your boyfriend now,” Theon says, ducking when Jon delivers another blow to his head. “Ouch, stop it! And as your boyfriend – would you _ stop – _ I think it’s time – _ ouch _ – it’s time to switch things up a bit.” He grins at Jon from behind his arms. 

Jon stops mid-whack, jeans dangling limply from his hand. Switch… as in… 

“I want you to fuck me,” Theon says, and Jon’s head explodes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Up next: Jon taking a turn at topping.


	8. VIII. The Reward

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Theon tries bottoming! Poor fool...

It’s been nearly a month since Theon’s promise to Jon, and slowly but surely he’s starting to get nervous. After his, to put it mildly, violent reaction, Jon hadn’t mentioned it again and Theon wonders if Jon has forgotten. Or maybe he doesn’t even want to – but considering the speed with which his dick had hardened again upon hearing it, that seems unlikely. Maybe Jon is nervous. Since the beginning of their thing it had always been Jon bottoming. Or maybe he just needs more time to get used to the whole boyfriend thing. 

Gods know Theon needs some time to get used to it. 

Not that it isn’t neat, being able to call Jon whenever he feels like it, being over at Jon’s cosy flat in the evenings and on weekends… It’s nice. Nothing else has changed much, there aren’t even many people knowing it since, miraculously, the receptionist had managed to keep his mouth shut. But the officiality of it, the label… He hasn’t yet invited Jon over to his place. Fear of hostile acquisition maybe. 

And even worse, there are strange bouts of _affection_ coming over Theon at the most impossible moments, like when Jon makes him tea in his shabby little kitchenette, or that one time right when they were about to get sexy and Jon had stubbed his toe on the bed frame pretty badly and Theon had been absolutely ready to drive him to the hospital in their underwear to see if it’s broken. 

It’s… unsettling. 

As is the waiting to be fucked. It’s just something he hasn’t done very often, only twice in his life. Both times had been pretty good, and Theon’s sure Jon can handle it like a champ, but. He’s nervous, which certainly isn’t helped by Jon pretending to have partial amnesia about this specific topic. Maybe, Theon thinks, maybe it’s never going to happen anyway and he’s wrecking his nerves for nothing. As long as they have sex, who cares?

Theon washes his hands in the office loo, eyeing his reflection blearily. It has been a long day again. And then he jumps when the door flies open and Jon stalks in, looking insolently awake and cheerful, despite having been in since early himself. 

“Hi, boss,” he says, stepping up behind Theon. Their eyes meet in the mirror and Jon tuts. “You look tired.”

“Yeah,” Theon confirms, turning his head so he can kiss Jon. “Had an exhausting conversation with those damned Martells. I wish Doran was still in charge, that new woman is a terror.”

“Poor you,” Jon says sympathetically, moving his hands to Theon’s shoulders. “You better go home then, have an early night. First meeting tomorrow is early.”

He starts kneading Theon’s shoulders, digging his thumbs into aching knots. Theon groans at the pain shooting through him, but it does seem to help and he can feel himself relaxing slightly. Jon definitely knows what he’s doing in _that_ regard, attacking all the right spots until the pain subsides and turns to pleasure. 

“Mmh,” Theon hums, moaning when he feels Jon’s lips at his nape. “You’re quite good at this, Snow.”

“And you’re quite sexy when you’re making noises like that,” Jon mumbles. “Think you can bring up the energy…”

He sucks at the side of Theon’s neck, hands wandering to his chest, finding his nipples under his shirt and rubbing. Theon’s dick thickens and he grins. 

“I think you’re in the luck, baby,” he says. “Want to do it here or go back to your place?”

“Here is fine.” Jon’s deft fingers open Theon’s belt, his fly, he drags his trousers and pants down, massaging Theon’s arse cheeks. “I want to see your face when I fuck you.”

Theon’s stomach freezes to ice. “Wha– you mean – now? _Here_?”

“Here,” Jon confirms before starting to nibble on Theon’s neck. 

“But…” Theon’s mind races frantically. “What if someone comes in?”

“Since when are you worried about someone coming in?” Jon asks sweetly, starting to palm Theon’s cock from behind with one hand while the other moves between Theon’s cheeks, stroking up and down lightly. “Don’t worry. Everyone’s gone, we’re the last ones here.”

“But…” Theon can’t think of anything. His heart is racing, his mind reeling. 

“Listen, Theon,” Jon says, earnest all of a sudden. “If you don’t want to, just say so. I won’t hold you to your promise, okay? It’s fine.”

Theon looks up, meeting Jon’s eyes in the mirror again and Jon smiles, warm and affectionate, and a little of the fear subsides. Jon is sweet, gentle. He’ll take care of him.

“Go on then,” he whispers, mouth dry. “Get me ready.”

Jon places a small kiss right below Theon’s ear before he’s suddenly gone. Theon looks at himself, puzzled, when his cheeks are parted by warm hands, and then he yelps when Jon nuzzles into him, stubbly cheeks grazing the sensitive skin. 

“Oh,” Theon says, and then he doesn’t have time to say anything else when Jon proves just how talented his mouth is. 

He dives right in, with the same enthusiasm he usually shows Theon’s cock, and in minutes Theon is moaning and writhing, his arse dripping and open and thoroughly relaxed. Jon doesn’t let up though, making greedy little sounds that send waves of arousal down Theon’s spine. Everything feels good, overwhelmingly so, and Theon only notices Jon’s finger when it’s already knuckle-deep in him. 

“You… you’re pretty… pretty good at this,” Theon manages to say between gasps and groans. 

Jon doesn’t answer, he gets to his feet again, arms wrapping around Theon’s waist. His cock, slicked with something, slides between Theon’s cheeks, up and down, catching on his sensitive rim every other moment. And all of a sudden Theon realizes that he’s not nervous at all anymore, on the contrary, he pushes back into Jon’s slow thrusts, eager to get more. And more he gets, Jon lines himself up and pushes, slowly, carefully, the pressure increases and then he’s in. And stops.

“Come on,” Theon pants, gripping the basin with both hands. “Keep going, baby, I can take it.”

“Theon…” Jon whimpers, pushing forward in a steady, slow drive. His cock brushes over the right spot and Theon cries out, head dropping to his chest as he gasps for breath. Jon stops, fully seated, leaning heavily against Theon’s back. He’s breathing hard, his skin hot. 

“Ready?” he pants against Theon’s nape, eyes meeting his over his shoulder in the mirror. They’re pitch black, and Theon shudders at the way they look at him. 

“Ready,” he whispers, and Jon starts to fuck. 

And damn if it isn’t absolutely fantastic. He gives deep, long thrusts, hands steadying Theon’s hips as he buries himself again and again, cock brushing over Theon’s prostate with every push inside, pleasure building in Theon until it’s nearly unbearable. 

“Please,” Theon moans, “please, Jon, touch me, _please_!”

“No.” Jon’s voice is strained. “I want to come in you. And then I want to suck you off, I want to taste you all night…”

“Yes,” Theon gasps, not paying any mind to how needy he sounds, “yes, come, please…”

Jon speeds up, getting erratic, until finally he surges forward hard and tenses, crying out. Theon trembles, just one moment in Jon’s mouth will be enough to finish him off, release the tension that is almost painful right now–

“You’re amazing,” Jon whispers, nosing at Theon’s cheek. “But I forgot I have to meet a friend tonight. Gonna be late if I don’t run now. I’ll suck your dick tomorrow, ok?”

And with that he smacks a kiss on Theon’s head, a moment later the door falls into the lock and Theon is alone. 

He gapes at his shocked reflection, unable to comprehend what has just happened. His dick throbs. Did Jon just – the door opens again and Theon’s heart soars, Jon is coming back, he’s not so cruel, he’s – oh fuckety _bloody_ fuck!!!

“Theon,” Ned Stark says as a way of greeting, nodding at Theon in the mirror as he walks past to the urinals. 

Theon is frozen rigid. There he is, gripping the basin so hard he can almost hear the ceramic creak under his fingers, his trousers are down and Jon’s come is dribbling down his thighs and Ned Stark is pissing not two feet away.

“You should go home, boy, you look tired,” Ned says after zipping up and coming to wash his hands on the basin next to Theon’s. Turning to go he hesitates. “Curious,” he muses, stroking his beard. “I always thought it was the other way round.” 

The door falls shut, and Theon starts screaming. 

“SNOOOOOOOOW!!!!!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, that went down like a lead balloon (as my favourite snek likes to say - yes I love GO)
> 
> Will Theon meekly take it? We shall see... in our next episode!  
XD


	9. IX. The Torture

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Theon must be pissed? Is Theon pissed? Jon's going to find out!

“You sure you’re not pissed?” Jon asks. After his little stunt in the loos he’s been waiting for some kind of retribution, but nothing has happened so far. Very ominous, and he doesn’t really trust the peace. But he’s leaning against Theon’s desk and Theon is kneeling between his legs, so maybe it’s not the right time to dwell on it. 

“Hmmm,” is all Theon answers, burying his head in Jon’s lap, rubbing his cheek against Jon’s dick. “I have to confess I was a little pissed after your exit. But I kinda reckoned you’d do something to get your own back after the UPS guy thing.” He takes Jon’s now half-hard dick, gently stroking from root to tip. “Can’t say I was surprised after the initial shock.” 

“I’m sor–” Jon starts, then cuts himself off with a moan as Theon takes him into his mouth, sucking softly, as if not to startle Jon’s dick. It doesn’t appear to be startled in the slightest, hardening fully in the wet warmth of Theon’s mouth. For a couple of minutes it’s just this, soft sensations and slow sucking. It feels like a gentle massage and Jon closes his eyes, feeling utterly relaxed. 

Gradually the stimulation changes, becomes slightly more forceful, Theon begins to suck harder, gripping the base of Jon’s cock with his fingers. Jon throws his head back, thrusting forward, he moans – and Theon pulls off, just as everything starts to get heated. 

“I guess I want to apologize,” he says softly, continuing to stroke Jon’s dick with one hand. Jon blinks, staring down at Theon who’s wearing a contemplative look. “It wasn’t very nice of me to use you like that.”

“Nevermind,” Jon hurries to say, “could you just…”

He gasps as Theon’s grip tightens, as his long fingers start massaging Jon’s length. He leans forward, tongue poking out, barely grazing the tip…

“No, baby, I’m _really_ sorry. Especially since everything before you left me high and dry was pretty good.”

“It was?” Jon asks, perplexed, but instead of an answer Theon just grins and dives in, swallowing Jon to the root. Jon shouts out, clumsily fumbling for Theon’s hair, fingers threading into it. “Gods,” Jon moans, “just like… aaaaah… _fuck_!”

Theon bobs his head, sinks down as far as he can, deep enough that Jon can feel his dick bumping against the back of Theon’s throat and Theon swallows, throat closing tightly around Jon’s dickhead–

“Yeah, really,” Theon gasps, having pulled back again. He wipes his mouth on his sleeve. “I really liked feeling you in me, baby. I hope we can do it again sometime soon.”

Jon stares at Theon in exasperation. His wide mouth is red, smiling innocuously. Jon’s dick twitches, clearly wanting back into that warm, wet space.

“Yeah, Jon mutters finally, when no further dick-sucking is forthcoming. “We can definitely do it again, just… Theon, could you please…”

“Hm? Oh, sure,” Theon says, graciously leaning in again. He starts to place sucking kisses along Jon’s length while gently massaging his balls. Jon relaxes a little, only now realizing how tense he’s been. Theon licks a long, wet path from root to tip, tongue dipping into the slit, fingers encircling the shaft. All of it feels so, so good, and Jon shifts a little, making a little noise of content – _and Theon pulls away again!!!_

“I was actually quite nervous,” he muses, thumb casually swiping over the head, making Jon shiver. “But turns out you’re very good with this lovely specimen–” he squeezes gently, almost lovingly– “and once you were in… well, can’t say I didn’t enjoy it.”

“Theon…” Jon says weakly, reaching out to grasp Theon’s hair with the vague idea of pulling him onto his dick again. Theon smirks. 

“Loved how you opened me up with your mouth, baby,” he whispers, giving Jon a look hot enough to melt iron. “Felt so good, getting prepared like that.”

And without further ado he sinks down on Jon’s dick as if starving, greedily slurping it in, bobbing his head, humming around it, swallowing and moaning… All of it feels so forceful, so perfect, and Jon can feel his balls draw up, he arches his back, opens his mouth–

“And when you first went inside,” Theon says as if he hasn’t just had a mouthful of dick, and Jon wants to scream, or hit him, _anything_. “You did it so well, it barely burned at all, just the most delicious pressure…” 

His hand returns to stroking Jon, softly up his thighs, bypassing his aching, twitching dick, continuing over Jon’s stomach, to his chest and down again. It keeps the arousal in Jon’s body coursing and humming, but it’s duller now, not close to exploding anymore. It’s extremely frustrating. 

“Oh and when you started to fuck me,” Theon says with a smile of reminiscence, “that felt amazing, baby, could’ve even taken it harder, you were so good…”

He looks up, catching Jon’s desperate gaze – and winks, diving back down. His lips and tongue tease, squeezing the head, he sucks Jon in wetly, drool dripping from the corner of his mouth and Jon starts to rock forward, moaning, gasping, tears pricking in his eyes at how _good_ it is, how unbelievably good, the arousal focuses again and he can feel it coming… coming…

“Know what was the only downside?” Theon asks a little breathlessly and Jon sobs, his whole body shaking with the need to release, with the desire to choke Theon to death with his cock, but Theon’s still talking, fingers firmly wrapped around Jon’s dick. “I’d really have liked to _come_, Jon. Do you understand that?” A squeeze, a couple quick strokes and Jon trembles from head to toes. “Would _you_ like to come?”

“Yes… yes…” Tears are streaming down Jon’s heated face, he can barely breathe anymore with tension, almost painful, so close… “I’ll do everything… fuck you a thousand times, I swear, Theon, _please_!!!”

“In that case,” Theon shrugs, grins, taking Jon back into his mouth and sucking violently, just once, and Jon explodes. 

He comes and comes and comes, his body spasming with the intensity of it, sparks dancing before his eyes until it’s over and he finds himself limply hanging in Theon’s arms. 

“Did I make myself clear?” Theon asks sweetly, but the way his lips graze Jon’s forehead does feel genuinely sweet, and Jon sighs, a little jittery. 

“Crystal-clear,” he whispers. “You’re a bastard, Greyjoy.”

“Yes, but I’m _your_ bastard, remember?” Theon sounds smug, so much so Jon longs to put him down to size. And that’s when he suddenly knows how. 

“You know,” he says casually, hand sneaking between them, finding Theon rock hard. “I would really feel more comfortable about everything if we were… a little more open about it. The boyfriend thing.”

He starts stroking, making Theon writhe and gasp. He’s obviously very ready.

“Jon, we’ve been fucking very publicly for months and I publicly declared us exclusive. What more can you need… oh, _yes_… to be comfortable?”

Jon smiles, turning his head and kissing Theon, deep and long while his hand dives into his trousers, closing around Theon’s cock and jerking once, twice – Theon groans, twitches, coming over Jon’s hand in warm spurts. Jon pulls his hand back, purposely bringing it to his mouth to lick it clean. Theon stares at him, mouth hanging open, and Jon sighs theatrically. 

“I just don’t feel good continuing to do all of this behind your best friend’s – and my cousin’s – back.”

Theon’s gaze turns horrified, he actually moves away from Jon, swallowing convulsively. Jon flutters his lashes. 

“I see you understand what I mean. So…” He pulls his jeans back up, bending to retrieve his discarded boxers, making sure Theon gets a good view of his arse. When Jon turns back Theon is still gaping at him, obviously terrified. Jon smiles as brightly as he can. 

“Tell Robb we’re together. Until then I fear I have to take some time off.”

And with Theon staring after him dumbly, Jon struts out, head held high.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm into my Christmas story up to my eyeballs but there's still some more of these to come!


	10. X. The Crime

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Helloooo! Long time no see. I've been pretty sick for a couple weeks and then my MURDEROUSLY depressing Christmas fic kept me occupied - but here it is!

“I thought I said we’re not doing this again until you’ve told Robb.” Jon frowns, looking cute with his nose wrinkled like that. “So why did you call me here and why aren’t you wearing any trousers?”

“This is how we tell him,” Theon explains, groaning when Jon opens his mouth to protest. “Ugh, not like that, you moron. I don’t want to give him a heart attack!”

“What then,” Jon asks, crossing his arms before his chest, looking extremely dubious.

“Well, I can’t just walk into his office and say, oh, by the by, I’ve been fucking your cousin since he first showed his pretty face in here, can I?” Theon smiles to himself when Jon blushes upon being called pretty. “I need an opener of some sort, to get onto the topic.”

“I still don’t get–”

“You fuck me,” Theon interrupts him, “as you promised you would, and you fuck me so good I’ll scream like a banshee… He’s in his office right now, Beth has gone home, and if we just leave the door a little bit open he’ll hear us.”

“And?” 

Jon still doesn’t get it and Theon facepalms. 

“And then he’ll ask me who I’ve had sex with in here and I can do the whole, uuuh sorry, wanted to tell you for a long time, blablabla.”

“Hm.” Jon glowers, but suddenly he smiles approvingly. “Know what, that actually makes sense.”

_Thank fuck_, Theon thinks when Jon comes over to kiss him. He tries not to look over to the large fern by the door in which he’s hidden the camera, pointed at the couch. Out of the corner of his eyes he can see the red light glowing, telling him it’s recording as it should. 

Jon is really thorough in his administrations. His kisses alternate between long, deep and slow, and rough, greedy licking and biting. He’s rubbing himself all over Theon’s front, the stiff fabric of his jeans pressed against Theon’s bare cock until he’s hard and writhing.

“Ready to bend over the desk?” Jon asks, breath hot against Theon’s neck.

“I thought couch this time,” Theon replies, moaning when Jon gently bites down on his ear, sending shivers all over him. “Want… want to look at you directly this time, baby…” 

_And hold you in an iron grip until I’ve come._

Jon looks pleased at that, starting to walk them to the couch while fumbling with Theon’s shirt until it’s hanging open. Gaze hot Jon steps back and starts undressing as well, one item after the other until he straightens, completely naked. Theon’s mouth is dry as he takes him in, impeccable chest, flat stomach, lovely pink dick standing out proudly. 

Sneaking a last glance at the camera to make sure all is in order, Theon lays down. His head is bedded towards the lense and like this Robb will have a nice view of the proceedings without having to look directly up Theon’s… well, there are boundaries. Not many, but this is one. He’s not going to produce close-up porn. 

“Are you sure?” Jon asks as he comes to kneel between Theon’s legs, gaze still hot but also a little apprehensive. “If you scream like a banshee he’ll know you’re the one getting… you know.”

“I’m rather counting on that,” Theon smirks, pulling Jon down by his neck to kiss him. “Mellow him out a little with the fact I’m not using you as my sex slave.”

“I rather like being your sex slave,” Jon pouts, and then he finally shuts up and goes to work with his glorious mouth. 

And oh, Theon has almost forgotten how glorious. Jon works him open meticulously, alternating between sloppy, wet licks and kisses, and shoving his fingers into Theon roughly, twisting and crooking them until Theon sees stars. Like this it doesn’t take long for him to be ready, to reach for Jon, pulling him onto his chest and into a kiss. Theon feels Jon lining up, his dickhead pressing against his rim.

“Wreck me, baby,” he pants, and Jon growls and pushes in. 

It’s just as good as the last time, Jon’s cock filling Theon in a way that makes his whole body come alive. There’s no need to fake any screaming for the camera, something that Theon completely forgets about once Jon puts his legs on his shoulders and goes to town on his arse. It’s so good Theon is reluctant to touch himself, he wants it to last. 

Unfortunately, Jon’s thrusts start to get erratic and more forceful all to soon and Theon takes himself in hand, stroking his length quickly. Jon tenses, drives into Theon one more time and groans, his dick pulsing, one more tug and Theon’s back arches as he spills over his hand with a long, loud _Oh Jon!_

Jon gently sets Theon’s shaking legs down, bending over him to kiss him quite thoroughly before smiling insecurely. 

“Think that was enough? You were pretty loud, but I wasn’t really, was I?”

“Well, you’ve been louder,” Theon says, wincing as he shifts into a sitting position. But that’s okay, baby. I’m sure it did the trick.” He kisses Jon again, just a quick peck on the lips. “Now fuck off, I’ll wait a little and then go over into his office.”

“Tell me how it went, okay?” Jon hops into his clothes, giving a little wave before he disappears. 

Theon walks to the door, a little bow-legged, to make sure Jon is really gone before he locks it and goes to retrieve the camera. Now he only has to cut the unnecessary blabla at the beginning and end, then he can send it to Robb - accidentally of course. 

Half an hour later he’s satisfied – in more than one way. The video is really something. Watching Jon fuck him from an outsider’s perspective… Theon tucks his dick away for the last time. Maybe. Logging into his new email account - specifically created for this purpose - Theon types in Robb’s private email, and after taking a deep breath he presses Send. 

~

The next morning Jon corners Theon the moment he turns up in the staff kitchen. “And??” he hisses, dodging Theon’s attempts to kiss him. “How did it go?”

“Well–” Theon starts, and then they both look up as Robb enters. He looks as if he hasn’t slept too much, pale and tired and clutching his mug like a begging bowl. He looks up, seeing the two of them and instantly freezing. If possible Robb pales further, eyes widening. He swallows, opening and closing his mouth. 

“Thon. Jeon,” he finally stutters and turns abruptly, running face first into the doorframe. 

“Are you okay, Robb?” Jon asks worriedly. 

“Fine,” Robb squeaks, a couple octaves higher than usual. “Nice dick - DAY - I have to…” And with that he literally runs from the room, leaving Jon with a puzzled expression. Theon is nearly dying with silent laughter. 

“Could have been worse,” he says, grinning. “But you know… that wasn’t nice of you, Snow. Forcing me to shove us down his throat…” And Jon doesn’t even know _how_… “You deserve a punishment for this, you know that, right?”

“Of fucking course,” Jon groans, rolling his eyes. “Bring it on, boss. I can take everything you come up with.”

That, Theon thinks smugly, remains to be seen. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poor Robb, huh?  
Also, Jon gets punished again, yay! Any ideas how? :)


	11. XI - The Deal

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Christmas party - merry Christmas :)

“I know I subjected you to very naughty and perverted stuff since this started, and vice versa,” Theon says to Jon as they walk up to the elevator. “But in my most horrible nightmares I would never have dreamed you’d do something like _ this _ to me. This is the absolute pinnacle of perverted. I have no idea how I shall ever be able to survive walking around _ my workplace _ like this. You do realize I work here, right, Snow? That my _ boss _will see me like this?”

“Would you come off it?” Jon huffs, entering the cabin when the elevator doors finally open. “One could think I’m forcing you to wear a collar and a plug with a tail.”

“That’d be better than _ this,” _ Theon grumbles, scratching his neck. “It’s itchy and too warm and I don’t even want to know where you got this atrocity from.”

“Theon,” Jon sighs, patience clearly running out, “if you say one more word about the bloody Christmas jumper, our deal is off!”

That does shut up Theon rather quickly. The deal… It’s marvellous. One of his best ideas. And like so many of his ideas it involves Jon, Jon’s arse, Jon’s mouth – and the office. Which is decked with garlands, mistletoes, holly and a shit ton of glitter everywhere. Theon really doesn’t envy the poor person who’ll have to clean up. Not only the glitter, but also the mulled wine spills and the crumbs everywhere, and - at a later hour - a variety of bodily fluids and used rubbers. It is a Christmas party after all, and on their way to the big conference room Theon can already spy the first couple going at it. 

Actually, it’s giving him ideas. “Now,” Theon says, tapping Jon’s shoulder, grinning at him when he swivels around to give Theon an indignant look. 

“I haven’t even said hi to my uncle!” Jon protests, but deal is deal, and Theon’s wearing the jumper with the big Christmas tree on the front, so Jon does slip into an unlit office while still protesting. He promptly drags his trousers down and bends over some poor guy’s desk, as always following the deal to the letter. 

Theon doesn’t hold himself up with any foreplay, which isn’t part of the deal anyway, and it’s not as if Jon would need it these days. A dollop of lube and a couple strokes to get Theon’s dick to full hardness is all it takes before he drives into Jon with a single, deep thrust, burying himself balls deep in that welcoming heat. Jon grunts, gripping the desk with both hands as Theon immediately sets a hard, fast pace, slamming into Jon so hard the wood creaks beneath them. It doesn’t take Theon long to get to the edge, especially when he hits the right spot dead on and Jon moans, loud enough they would be heard if the music outside wasn’t even louder. 

“Yes, that’s right, baby,” Theon pants, “feel how I’m splitting you open. You’ll feel me the whole evening, I’m going to make sure…”

Jon gasps upon hearing that, he bears back against Theon, his muscles squeezing Theon’s cock tightly and Theon lets go, flooding Jon’s arse with the first load of what he hopes will be many tonight. 

“Can I get off?” Jon asks, turning around on slightly shaky legs. His lovely face is glowing, lip looking bitten already. A good start, Theon thinks, and so he graciously nods. “Thanks,” Jon says with a relieved smile as he takes himself in hand, stroking his cock fast until he tenses, coming over his fingers with a bitten-off sigh. 

Theon watches him pluck a handkerchief from his pocket and wiping his hand, but as per the deal Jon doesn’t do anything to clean his backside. Good boy. The thought of Jon going around the office with Theon’s come dripping out of him is a favourite of Theon’s. Really drives the point home who Jon belongs to. Not that there’s anyone left who wouldn’t know by this point, but still. 

When both their trousers are done up again they venture outside, finally making it into the conference room to say hello to Ned Stark and his wife. They don’t see much of her during the year, and whenever she does visit Theon has the distinct notion she doesn’t like him too much. Today she’s all mellow smiles though, even smiling at Theon when he shakes her hand and wishes her Merry Christmas. 

After that Theon loses sight of Jon for a while, as he talks to colleagues and suppliers, doing his best to avoid being alone with their Dornish business partners. That woman is creepy as fuck, and the way she looks at Theon makes him feel like a piece of meat on a buffet. Not that he’s the only one she’s giving these looks, and Theon silently vows to keep Jon out of her sight. He hasn’t seen Robb yet, and when Jon finally finds him again the reason why becomes apparent. 

“There you are,” Jon says, looking harassed and flustered. “I’ve been searching for you.” He throws a brief glance over his shoulder before stealing Theon’s cup, taking a big gulp. “I think Robb has had too much punch already. I’ve done nothing but dodging him under every single mistletoe for the last half hour!”

“Is that so.” Theon wrestles his cup back from Jon’s unyielding fingers. That thing with the video has come to bite him in the arse at last, it seems. “Time for another round I think.”

They don’t go far, just into the next empty loo cabin, where Theon orders Jon onto his knees. 

“Open up,” he tells him and Jon obeys, keeping beautifully still as Theon slides his dick between Jon’s waiting lips. “There, that’s my good boy,” Theon says as he lazily starts to thrust in Jon’s mouth. Jon shudders, he’s stroking his own dick through his trousers. “Shame I can’t come all over your face and have you running around like that,” Theon mutters as he tangles a hand in Jon’s hair, tugging lightly. “But I guess that’d be a tad too much. Have to content myself with fucking you hoarse, right?”

He smiles down at Jon, winks – and slams his cock down Jon’s throat with a vicious push, all the way down. Jon splutters, hands fumbling for purchase until he grabs Theon’s hips to steady himself as Theon goes deep again and again. It’s amazing how well Jon takes it, hardly gagging at all anymore. And how lovely he looks, his eyes unfocused, a thin line of drool slipping down his chin, mouth stretched around Theon’s cock… There’s a sight he’ll never tire of. And the cherry on top is always Jon swallowing when Theon comes, all of it, greedily, as if he can’t get enough of it. 

The next hour they spend drinking some more, Theon is hassled into singing a particularly annoying Christmas song on the karaoke station while Jon refuses. Probably better, he does sound a little hoarse. Not hoarse enough though, seeing as he’s still able to talk to the brother-in-law of Ned Stark’s business partner. Theon keeps watching them out of the corner of his eyes, barely able to fight the growing jealousy – and the impulse to fuck Jon right in front of that tall, blond guy with the arrogant grin. Can’t do that, so Theon settles on fucking Jon in the copy room. 

And in his own office. And in Robb’s office, where Theon lets Jon come again, on Robb’s office chair. At the end of it Theon is exhausted, but nowhere near as Jon. He’s barely able to hold himself upright, legs weak and trembling, a hazy look in his eyes. He keeps slumping against Theon like a sack of potatoes, but sitting down apparently isn’t an option, judging from Jon’s face when Theon suggests it. He hasn’t protested even once, not even when Theon had told him to suck his dick in Ned Stark’s private meeting room. The deal is thus fulfilled, and it’s time to take Jon home and to bed. 

“I’m really looking forward to doing this to you,” Jon mutters when Theon drags him around in search of Ned to say goodbye. He yawns heartily. “Remember, next time we go out I’ll be the one telling you where and when and you’ll be the one with a sore arse and a sore throat.” 

Theon just pats his arm in a placating manner. Next time they go out it’ll probably be to a concert or a bar or something like this. He can live with that. 

“There you are. Going home already?” Ned smiles at them kindly, then holds something out to Theon. “You forgot that in the copy room, lad.”

Slightly embarrassed, Theon pockets Jon’s briefs. Must’ve gotten lost in the fray somehow. Jon doesn’t seem to notice, he just leans into Theon, yawning every other moment. 

“So, has Jon told you yet?” Ned asks, and Theon frowns in confusion. Told? Told what? He shakes his head. Ned throws Jon a glance. “He hasn’t told you you’re invited over for Christmas lunch? Well, now you know. Have a good evening, boys.”

And with that he pats Theon’s shoulder, mussing Jon’s hair and leaving Theon with his mouth open. 

“That… what… you…”

“Hah,” Jon says drowsily, a smug grin on his face. “Our next time going out. And if I say now you’ll be a good boy and bend over in my uncle’s garden shed, right?”

“Snow, you…” Theon says, completely thrown. “You _ knew _ that when we made the deal! I can’t believe my boyfriend is such an evil genius.”

“Shut up.” Jon yawns again. “And take me home already, my bed is crying for me. I need to lie down.”

“Too bad,” Theon says grumpily. “We’re going to _ my _ place tonight.”

**Author's Note:**

> If any of you have more ideas for dirty office shenanigans please tell me in the comments. I love comments! :D


End file.
